


Regrets

by daniko



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-20
Updated: 2011-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniko/pseuds/daniko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus needs rest and Sirius is forced into care-taking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilenceBerry](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SilenceBerry).



> Disclaimer: Not mine.

“I’m afraid you can’t withstand that sort of journey, Severus,” Poppy said, storing up the remaining vials of potions inside her handbag. She looked up at the Headmaster. “He’ll have to stay in bed for at least three days, Headmaster—five, if I had my way, but I’m realistic.”

“My good woman—” Severus began, but was hastily interrupted.

“You’re younger than me, boy, don’t patronise me!” Poppy snapped, but her face softened when he winced. “I know you’re . . . expected,” her voice dropped in contempt, “but you cannot endure another round under _his_ wand, my dear.”

Severus slumped against the dusty pillows. “If he calls and I don’t go . . . .”

“When and if that happens, my boy, we’ll . . . .” Dumbledore put in soothingly, but trailed off when Poppy’s glare settled on him. “Either way, I’ll have a word with Sirius to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Severus closed his eyes wearily. “Oh, lucky me.”

* * *

“Snape!”

Severus woke with a start to see Black standing in the doorway, a wooden tray in his hands and face twisted in a scowl like it was common these days. “What d’you wan’?” Severus didn’t even feel like insulting Black.

Black’s face softened for a moment (as it did sometimes, like Black thought Severus was too stupid to notice) and he got inside to place the tray on Severus’s bedside table. “Pomfrey told me to make sure you have at least three meals a day.” Severus tried to snort, but what got out was a weak whoosh of air. “Yeah, and sleep the rest of it.”

“’eeve me a’one,” he slurred and closed his eyes to welcome oblivion.

“Snape!” Severus startled awake, and glared at Black. “You need to exercise your brain, or it’ll stop working.”

Sadly, he was right; Severus needed to after such long exposure to Cruciatus. He gathered his every ounce of strength and pushed himself upright, and Black placed the tray over Severus’s lap. He then turned to leave, and Severus turned his attention to the soup in front of him (rather than the swing of Black’s hips), but his arms felt too heavy and he rather thought that eating wasn’t worth the effort.

A heavy sigh caught his attention to the fact that Black was sitting at his side, expression resigned and weary. “Not even you deserve to starve, you bastard.” Black picked the spoon and filled it with the pasty broth. “Come on, open up.”

Severus felt himself go warm all the way from his belly to his face, as Black started to feed him. “Black.”

“Shut up,” Black grumbled, and Severus did.

Silence fell over the room and only the sound of Severus eating and the birds outside were heard; Black’s cheeks were pink, but that might be due to the glare of the sunlight coming through the window.

Their eyes crossed. “Thank you,” Severus said, because he took his debts seriously.

Black said nothing for a while, but then looked up with wary resolution. “I’m sorry,” he declared. Severus froze. “For, you know, everything.”

“If Dumbledore put you up to this—,” Severus tried, but Black interrupted.

“Not about our fights!” Black glared, before looking away. “About before. I should have known better than to believe everything I heard about your loyalties.” Severus found that he couldn’t really speak through the lump in his throat. “I wanted to speak to you after Peter, but.” He shrugged.

“I—,” Severus tried again.

“I know apologies aren’t enough this time, I was always screwing things over between us even then, but I,” Black hesitated, eyes still downcast. “No one has ever been good enough ever since us and I don’t expect anything, really, but you keep hanging out on Voldemort’s right arm and I thought,” his breath hitched, “I thought you should know, you know, just in case, that I’m really sorry for everything.”

Severus wanted to cry. Black had no right to bring long forgotten things back to light after such a long time. “You decided that just now?” he demanded, holding his bitterness close. “Now that I’ve committed myself to this cause? How convenient.”

Black reeled backwards, face twisted in anger. “You! You think I don’t know that?! You think that this is me patronising you? Think again, Snape, I’ve got much more to lose than you.”

“Like what?”

“You, for starters,” Black said, shoulders tight and voice hollow. “You make me see red every time you agree to Dumbledore’s plans, like you’re suicidal or something. You keep taunting me about being kept and staying out of harm’s reach . . . You think I don’t feel it? How you and Harry are slipping between my fingers? We’re all gonna die and I’ll be the one to grieve you all in the end.” He suddenly got up. “I miss you and you haven’t even gone yet.

Severus lowered his eyes towards the ugly comforter. “Black, I can’t really—.”

“I even miss this,” Black continued right away, waving his hand over Severus’s figure, “man you’ve become, and I miss my stupid, awkward teenage boyfriend. I can’t watch you sacrifice your stupid self for Dumbledore and I won’t let you brain-wash Harry to do the same!”

Severus had had enough. He reached out and pulled Black— _Sirius_ , his Sirius—back into the bed. “Stop.” Sirius shook his head, but there were many words said and not meant between them. “I’m sorry too,” Severus said for their sake. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said to you. They treat you like you’re the prodigal son, but you’re mine, Black, not theirs. I, unlike them, never once believed you’d done it.” That was the gist of it, really, how Sirius had never really been Severus’s.

The shadow of the grin that still lived in Severus’s fantasies ghosted Sirius’s lips. “I know how you feel, I got your howlers,” he teased, and Severus found himself smirking in reply. Their eyes crossed and the floodgate opened, washing away all the bitterness, sadness and loneliness.

Sirius closed the distance between their mouths, hot and demanding just like Severus remembered, but with a finesse that hadn’t been there when they were boys fumbling in a broom closet. This time, it was practised and it aimed right at Severus’s libido . . . .

“Oh. My. God!”

They jumped apart. Severus didn’t want to, but he raised his eyes to see Harry Potter, the damn bane of his existence and now sex-life, standing in the doorway, cheeks flushed and expression horrified. “Potter—.”

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god, ohmygod, ohmy—.”

“Potter!” Severus barked and Potter quieted at once, flailing soundlessly in outrage. “This is not what it looks like,” Sirius snorted and Severus threw him a nasty glare, “although it might get to it, if you’d be so kind as to live and close the godamned door.” Not really, because Severus wasn’t up to it, but still.

Potter squeaked and ran away. Sirius was shaking with laughter. “James would have killed us for debauching Harry’s innocence.”

“James would have killed you for getting your jollies from me, too,” Severus pointed out.

Sirius laughed. “I don’t care.” He smooched Severus. “But I have to speak with Harry about us, and about this war.” He laid his head on Severus’s shoulder with a sigh and Severus finally gave in to his own tiredness.

“Later, Sirius, much later.”

~The End~


End file.
